


Every Thirteen Minutes

by charlotteschaos



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, Erotica, F/F, Femslash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Ladies Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-26
Updated: 2007-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-27 10:09:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10806984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlotteschaos/pseuds/charlotteschaos
Summary: Luna/Hermione: Hermione feels the need to find out just what Luna feels for Ron.





	Every Thirteen Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: For Lea Hazel via hp Lovebirds   


* * *

When Hermione barged into Luna's dorm room, she very quickly realized why it was the Ravenclaws were giggling when they sent her up here. Luna was stark naked in front of a huge round vanity mirror with celestial etchings along the rim. Her pale arms were up over her head and her eyes keen on her own breasts. Briefly, she acknowledged Hermione's presence, but then returned to her self examination.  
  
The intent had been to talk to Luna about Ron, to warn her to Stay Away From Her Man or there Might Be Trouble. Although she'd planned to explain it in a much more convivial manner than that, that had been the backbone of her intent to speak with Luna. Now her gaze was raking over the soft curves of Luna's hips and the roundness of her breasts. Hermione had certainly noticed girls, mostly in a competitive sense. Luna's roundness reminded her of her own lack-- her flat chest, no hips, fuzzy hair-- no wonder Ron was with Lavender and not her.  
  
Hermione flushed at both the thought and at Luna's actions. Her thumb and forefinger were pinching at her nipple; her expression was curious but calculating. Feeling jealousy mixed with something inexplicable, Hermione decided that this must stop.  
  
"What are you _doing_?" Hermione sputtered.  
  
Luna had moved on to pinch her other nipple and didn't even bother to look up at Hermione. "Checking for discharge."  
  
For a moment, Hermione remained silent, mulling the words over and over in her mind. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting Luna to say, but 'checking for discharge' really wasn't amongst the myriad possibilities. "What?"  
  
By the time Hermione had come up with that response, Luna was laying flat on her back, one hand up under her head. The other hand was busy feeling out her own breast, moving in circles from the nipple and ebbing out to the full swell of her tit. Hermione was caught up in her gaze at the bright pinkness of Luna's hardened nipple and the absentminded look in Luna's eyes as she stared at the ceiling, her mind a million miles away.  
  
"Discharge. Breast exam," said Luna as she switched her arms, placing the other one under her head and circling her nipple in that same measured way, starting from center and spiraling to the fullness of her breast.  
  
"What?" Hermione shook her head, trying to pull herself from the mesmerizing vision of Luna's fingers feeling herself up. "Oh, right. Breast cancer. That's a good idea. Did you know that every thirteen minutes a woman dies of breast cancer?"  
  
Sitting up, Luna gave that some thought and started feeling her breast from this position, only this time working in little rows from top to bottom. "You know, Nargle attacks don't just happen in Christmas. That's a misnomer. It seems that way because mistletoe is out in the open more than not and it tends to ruin parties. But the truth is, a Nargle can attack any time, in any bunch of mistletoe, and even some clover."  
  
"There's no such thing as a Nargle!" Hermione snapped. She needed to get back on track and not think about Luna's perfect breasts or the way she was touching them, or the way it would feel-- not that she had any breasts or interest in having Luna touch them, of course.  
  
Luna stared at her, or rather _through_ her for a long moment and then she tilted her head curiously to one side before grabbing a twisted string of her dirty blond hair to suck on. After a few moments of thoughtful sucking, she asked, "Are you here for a breast exam?"  
  
"What? No!" Even Hermione realized that her response was too quick, too forceful to be sincere shock.  
  
"Too bad, a woman dies from breast cancer every thirteen minutes," Luna repeated, smiling around another lock of hair in her mouth.  
  
"Er, be that as it may... I came to ask you about your intentions towards Ron. He's... well, he's a good friend of mine and I--" Hermione started.  
  
Luna grabbed her hand to pull her onto the bed to sit with her. She scooted around so that she was sitting Indian-style, leaving her pink cunt open. It was hard for Hermione not to look, it was just so... _there_ and Luna didn't seem to mind one bit that she was naked with her legs open in front of her.  
  
"Ron's funny!" said Luna.  
  
"Right, well, he's just a bit confused at times and..." Hermione blushed as she realized she was talking more to Luna's open orifice than to her face, so she purposefully lifted her head, daring to look into Luna's eyes.  
  
For her part, Luna appeared as unfazed as she ever did, but she was smiling slightly. "I think you should be having this conversation with Lavender Brown, don't you?"  
  
"Lavender is preying on his vulnerabilities--"  
  
"Oh is _that_ what she was doing? I thought she was snogging him!"  
  
Had it been said by anyone but dreamy-eyed Luna, she might've thought it was an attempt at snark, but Luna appeared sincerely puzzled.  
  
"She's doing that, as well. Does that make you jealous?" Hermione asked, trying to suss out Luna's position.  
  
"Oh, no! Boys have cooties! I refuse to risk an infection!"  
  
This was much more familiar territory. In spite of Luna's nudity and the way that she was sprawled out so lewdly, Hermione felt her coming back to her senses. "Luna, cooties do not actually exist."  
  
Luna rolled her eyes. "If that's what you want to believe..."  
  
"Of course I believe it, it's the truth," said Hermione.  
  
Luna shifted again, straightening one leg out across the bed. Hermione found herself staring at the wet pinkness, her eye drawn to it naturally amongst the golden curls and pale skin. It was almost obscene, this bright patch of skin glistening between her legs. Beyond even just the color and mysterious texture, it was so private, so hidden, or at least it was supposed to be. But Luna had no shame about it.  
  
"Thinking about giving me a pelvic?" Luna chirped brightly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's all right. I don't have cooties," Luna said, squirming closer.  
  
Before Hermione had a chance to protest, Luna had taken her hand and slid her fingers over the slippery skin. It was incredibly warm and delicately soft, but Hermione yanked her hand back anyway and stared at Luna in shock.  
  
"...or not?" Luna frowned, but leaned back on one elbow as she slid her own fingers over the same spot that Hermione's hand had been.  
  
Hermione stood; staring in horrified fascination at Luna Lovegood sprawled over the blue and bronze Ravenclaw bed, sliding two glossy fingers in and out of herself. She was too curious to leave, but too intimidated to stay. The result left her standing in the middle of the room with her hand at the collar of her robe, clutching it closed as if Luna might have powers that would rend her clothing from her body.  
  
Her breathing accelerated as Luna fell back on the bed, her spare hand rose up to fondle a breast, fingering the nipple delicately. Hermione felt lightheaded watching this, the blood pooled to her cunt and she felt the prickling of an itch, of need that she wanted sated-- one that poor, fumbling Viktor had elicited but had never the nerve or ability to sate.  
  
Luna's fingers were long and appeared expert. She was whimpering now, her pale face pressed into the duvet. Her legs shook and her chest heaved and glistened and finally flushed as she continued her efforts. As much as Hermione wanted to leave, she couldn't bear to, couldn't stop watching _this_ , even if she wasn't even sure why this was happening or why she wanted to see it.  
  
"Stop," Hermione begged.  
  
Opening her eyes, Luna watched Hermione, moving her fingers in and out of herself. They went hazy, then hooded, then closed as her face pinched up and her plush lips parted as she gasped for more air. Her hand worked faster, nearly a blur of fingers and ruby read glistening skin sucking in and out around them, opening and closing for each thrust.  
  
Trembling, Hermione took another step back, stopping when she hit the bed behind her, which she gripped for balance. Luna's cries were getting louder and more lascivious. Her hips bucked and she ground onto her fingers until they froze, her body jerking with pulsing nerves and Hermione could feel her cunt contracting in empathy.  
  
Luna dropped her legs and left her hand between her legs to lazily stroke as she caught her breath.  
  
"Your... turn," Luna panted.  
  
"I... I have to go..." Hermione whispered, side-stepping the bed she was in front of as she backed towards the door.  
  
"But Hermione... you haven't... had your... breast exam..."  
  
Scrambling to the door, she twisted the knob, trying to master herself. "Maybe next time," Hermione said as she slipped past the door.  
  
"But every thirteen minutes--"  
  
Luna's voice was cut off by the slamming of the door. Hermione straightened her robe, and adjusted her Prefect pin that signified that she had every right to be there, and then headed down the steps to the common area.  
  
As she left, she pretended not to hear the whispers or snickers behind her back until one of the girls called out, "She gives them every month. See you soon!"


End file.
